23 comments/ 40922 views/ 9 favorites Jennifer's Secret By: Erotican Chapter One A cloud of smoke lingers at the entrance of the Country Inn Restaurant as several of the patrons stand leaning against the railing of the covered deck, cigarettes in hand, enjoying the gorgeous autumn evening. Located a quarter of a mile off a busy state highway just outside of Lancaster Township, "The Country" is a quaint little bar and grill restaurant nestled in a clearing of trees in the middle of nowhere. The air is very calm, and the temperature is unseasonably warm for October. Overhead the clear blue sky melts into a burnt orange horizon where the sun is just beginning to dip beyond the distant tree-line, casting a yellowish-orange glow to everything in view and intensifying the show of colors in the foliage all around. The smokers take notice of a small car moving across the parking area, finally settling into a nearby spot. A lone, dark-haired woman steps out. Jennifer Holsten locks her car and hangs her purse on her shoulder before turning to walk toward the restaurant. Straining to look through the bright glare of the setting sun, Jen scans the faces of the people standing near the entrance, searching for her husband, John. Being unable to spot his car in the parking lot, she suspects she is the first to arrive. The original plan, as Jen reminded her husband this morning, was for the couple to leave the house no later than six thirty. But a phone call from John late in the afternoon altered the script. His brief voice-mail offered a quick apology and an explanation that he would not be home in time. Instead, he would have to meet Jen at the restaurant at seven. Jen's itinerary for the evening included dinner and drinks at this quiet cross-town eatery before heading home for a comfy, and hopefully, intimate evening on their spacious deck, snuggling near the warmth of their rarely used fire pit. At least that was the plan. To Jen it had seemed like weeks since they last spent a meaningful evening together and tonight she was anxious to reconnect and have some fun. Obviously, John is running late... again. Jen walks headlong into the uncomfortable stares of several people (mostly men) lingering along the inside perimeter of the front porch. She quickly moves across the smoke-filled deck and enters through the front door of the restaurant. Jen pauses just inside the doorway, checks her watch – 7:04, and shuffles towards the line of coat-racks to one side of the waiting area, trying to remain inconspicuous and patient. Jen and John celebrated their 21st anniversary in the spring. Their marriage, at least Jen thought, was fairly typical. They originally met as sophomores in college, quickly fell in love, and were married within in a year of completing their bachelors' degrees. John went to work as an accountant for a local finance company, and Jen started out as a physical therapist at a sports medicine clinic. Within two years Jen gave birth to Benjamin, the first of their two boys. The following year his brother Jeremy arrived. Throughout the next twenty years the pages of the calendar flew by, seemingly faster each year, as their lives became a blur of parental duties and schedules that kept Jen and John focused, non-stop, on family. They spent countless hours with school activities, homework, sports practices, games, lessons, clothes shopping, piles of unending laundry, groceries, meals, doctors, and the relentless pursuit of a better life for their kids. Once the boys entered Middle School Jen decided to resume the career she had earlier suspended to become a stay-at-home mom, and the Holstens were finally able to purchase their dream home – a charming two story with a huge garage, a wrap-around deck, and a large front porch on a secluded seven acre lot. The house offered a magnificent view of the rolling Pennsylvania countryside, and was close enough for an easy commute to work for Jen. The middle-class family was finally enjoying the fruits of their education and hard work. Two summers ago Jeremy moved away to college in a neighboring state (as Ben had done the year before), and the house that bustled with the activities of two teenage boys became quiet. But among the sadness of the empty nest, Jen and John began to enjoy the freedom and privacy of once again having their living space entirely to themselves. Jen enjoyed the occasional weekend breakfast on the secluded deck, often wearing nothing but a robe or some flirty little selection from her lingerie drawer. She also found pleasure in sunbathing or reading a book undisturbed in the warmth of those last precious summer afternoons. John, "just like a man" as Jen would say, simply reveled in the idea that he could finally watch television dressed only in his underwear if he wanted. It was truly a sense of regained freedom that reminded them of those long-forgotten, carefree days at the beginning of their marriage. They also discovered that the physical intimacy within their relationship, which had slowly withered through the many years of parenthood, was rekindled. For too long to remember, sex for Jen and John had become an infrequent (and too often, scheduled) activity that was almost entirely relegated to their locked door bedroom. Suddenly, with the house to themselves their sex play, little by little, started to become spontaneous and unrestricted by time and location. Finally free from hiding away in their bedroom, Jen and John began to take advantage of every room in the house, as well as the deck and the semi-private back yard. Jen also found that she was no longer worried about muffling her sounds, or keeping an eye on the clock. During their first few months alone in the house, Jen and John made love like newlyweds – wherever and whenever they wanted. Jen was particularly affected by the unrestricted atmosphere and plentiful opportunities for love play. She suspected it might just be a phase for women her age, but she found the slightest touch, or even an unintentional boyish look from John could coax her into a frisky mood. She just couldn't remember ever wanting sex as much before, and John took full advantage of her eagerness. Having adequate time and privacy for the first time in her married life, Jen learned to let down her guard and totally immerse herself into the "give and take" pleasures of lovemaking. She began to enjoy oral sex, something that John had for years longed to explore further. They experimented with role-playing, and even tried some light bondage after Jen purchased a beginner's bondage kit from a mail-order company. There was something particularly unsettling, yet wildly alluring, about being restrained that haunted Jen's deepest desires, and she finally worked up the nerve to indulge her untold fancy. Throughout the many months of playful adventures, Jen could feel herself changing. She thought about sex regularly, often spending time fantasizing, or thinking of ways to surprise John. Her enthusiasm resulted in numerous sexy new outfits and costumes – each selected with a specific playful purpose. Jen would also, on occasions, try to seduce John at unexpected times. Her efforts might include something overt, like blocking his view of the television while performing an impromptu striptease. Or as subtle as settling in on the couch under the cover of a blanket, secretly unzipping and touching herself until climaxing or being discovered. On more than one occasion she surprised John as he came home from work. Dressed in his business suit with briefcase in hand, Jen would block his entrance at the garage door, kissing him passionately and tearing open his clothes before falling to her knees to show him just how happy she was to see him. In a way it was a sort of sexual awakening for Jen, and it fascinated her. But it also began to leave her frustrated and often feeling unfulfilled as John struggled to match her raging libido. Indeed, John began to feel somewhat inadequate, completely overwhelmed with Jen's sexual energy and her unending desire for creativity. She was borderline insatiable. Jen and John were as close as they had been since their earliest college days. But by the time their youngest had started into his sophomore year at college, John's flame had begun to flicker. Just prior to their recent anniversary John accepted a new job at a large investment firm, and soon afterwards he began to act increasingly distracted. Unexpected business travel and long hours at the office often kept John absent from home. His interest in Jen, both physically and emotionally, seemed to wane as he threw himself into his prestigious new position with vigor. Jen realized that it was best to give John some distance, to allow him to succeed in this great opportunity. He was finally earning a substantial income - something they desperately needed considering the cost of the boys schooling. The new job even offered John several prospects for further advancement. Professionally speaking, he was seemingly on the fast track. But were all of the material benefits worth sacrificing their renewed closeness? Date nights were Jen's idea - an effort to carve out a scheduled slice of quality time together, to re-stoke the embers of romance in their marriage. A once a week evening of dinner, movies, or just to stay at home together seemed to be the obvious answer. The only date night rule was to avoid any conversations or activities concerning work. The selection of time, activity, and venue alternated each week, and it was Jen's turn to decide. Now standing in the restaurant's waiting area, her patience wearing by the minute, Jen peers into the darkened dining area looking for her date. The restaurant is sparsely occupied – which was the primary reason for her choice of this establishment for tonight's date. Frustrated, but not overly surprised to be alone, Jen moves inside to the bar area, where she pulls up onto a stool and quickly orders a glass of wine. After more than twenty minutes of empty glances at the doorway (and sipping the wine a little too quickly) Jen's phone begins to chime. She flips open the lid to read the scrolling text message. 'Cant make it, baby. Probs at work. Sorry.' Jen exhales deeply in a low growl and snaps the phone closed before taking another long gulp of the wine. This is twice in the past three date nights that John has cancelled at the last minute, and she cannot hide her frustration. All week she had played out the evening's script in her mind. A quiet dinner, some alcohol to help relax away the stress of the day, and a playful mood to get things heated up. They were both looking forward to this date. And, oh yeah, John had left the house that very morning promising he would not be late. Jen had raced home from work to shower and get ready. She dressed (or should we say undressed?) especially for the occasion. John always loved the occasional surprise of discovering when Jen went "commando" on dates. It always produced a very noticeable effect on him. Tonight Jen decided to not only leave the panties in the drawer, but also dressed without a bra - something she almost never did. Modeling her shortest skirt and the tallest pair of pumps in her closet, she pranced and posed in front of the full length mirror for almost an hour. A new pair of black stockings covered her smooth legs, pulled just above the hem of her skirt and fastened to dainty little garter straps. John absolutely loved seeing her in garter belts. He always claimed to love the way the straps framed the soft little V-shaped front of her panties and accented the round curves of her bottom. John insisted that Jen wear her panties on the outside of the garters so that when things got going and the panties came off the garter belt and stocking could remain intact. This lacey little black garter with an embroidered red heart in the front was one of his favorites, and just pulling the sexy garment from the drawer got Jen's blood stirring. As she fastened the snaps lustful thoughts swirled through her mind about how she would subtly tease John by playfully showing herself during dinner. Jen finished the look with a soft, (almost semi-sheer) white blouse that faintly revealed the fact that she wore no bra. She wrestled with the thought of chickening out and switching the top to something less obvious, but "damn!" she said to the woman in the mirror "... you look hot." Jen just couldn't resist a satisfied smile as she gazed at her reflection. Standing with hands on hips and her feet parted in a confident pose, she turned to look over her shoulder into the mirror, checking the hem of the skirt. It positioned nicely against the back of her thighs – dangerously close to revealing the garter-snapped hem of the stockings, and not much farther from the soft creases of her bottom. She released another button in the top of the blouse – one button further than Jen would usually dare to open. Turning from side to side she confirmed that the curves of her soft breasts were plainly visible through the gaping material from just the right vantage point. Her hardened nipples accented the look as they poked firmly into the soft fabric. Finally satisfied with her wardrobe, Jen left the house and headed to the restaurant in anticipation of the reaction John would surely have. At forty seven, Jen was an attractive woman. Last summer her boys had revealed in an awkward dinner conversation that several of their friends often referred to her as a MILF. Although she was embarrassed at the thought of sexual comments from her sons' friends - she scolded them at the time for the wholly improper connotation - in secret, however, she loved the filthy designation. With the age of fifty just around the corner, being considered a MILF felt like an admirable compliment. Jen took care of herself – exercising regularly and eating with self discipline. She stood at only five feet four, with shoulder length dark brown hair and a petite, but shapely figure. Her green/brown eyes accented a naturally pretty face that John always insisted required no makeup. John would also agree that other men routinely took notice of Jen. Blessed with great skin, she truly did not look her age. While most of her closest friends struggled to hide their cellulite and various age-related sagging and wrinkles, Jen had the skin tone and texture of a thirty year old. She could still confidently wear a two-piece bathing suit, and although Jen remained overly critical of her own appearance, deep down she was pleased that Mother Nature was taking her sweet time with the aging process. But among her many pleasing physical assets, one in particular was the most obvious. Jennifer Holsten had an ass to die for. Her firm round bottom filled shorts, jeans, dresses, or slacks so perfectly, John thought, he would often find himself getting aroused just by watching her walk by. Despite sharing a bed with her for more than twenty years, seeing Jen in her panties never failed to get him hard. With her sexy bottom now seated at the bar - without her husband - Jen angrily surrenders to the busted date night, and decides to order dinner before heading back home. As the bartender approaches to take Jen's order he pushes a second glass of wine in front of her. Immediately responding to her confused look, he quickly indicates that the drink is "compliments of the group of gentlemen across the bar" as he points to her right. Jen turns to see four men sitting at a small table looking in her direction. They all appear to be much younger than her - especially judging by their overly enthusiastic look of satisfaction in buying her a drink. Jen raises the glass in their direction and smiles as they boyishly wave and nod back. She notices a ridiculous high five exchange between two of the men, and slowly shakes her head before turning away. She quietly mumbles to herself "...young enough to be my..." but stops short of completing the thought. Yet, even as she downplays their gesture, the sudden flattery of attention has interrupted her anger at John. Rolling her eyes, Jen mutters into her glass "at least someone noticed me tonight" and takes a sip from the fresh glass. Jen's taco salad arrives and she quickly starts eating. Many minutes into her meal she realizes that the young men have abandoned their table and are now sitting at the corner of the bar, drinking their beers only a few seats away to her right. As she turns full-on to look in their direction, the men quickly avert their eyes. One of the young men cracks a smile as he looks upwards to the hanging wine glasses above. Through his tight-lipped grin she hears him utter the word "bus-ted". A few awkward seconds pass before Jen turns back towards her meal and then suddenly realizes the source of their attention. The group's new position offers them the exact view Jen was staging earlier for her husband to enjoy. As she leaned forward to eat, her blouse had been gaping open just enough to expose her left breast. Jen feels a deep blush come over her face, and her immediate instinct is to hide her dilemma - to turn away, and button her top. But the warm flushing sensation is much more than embarrassment. Feeling a little dizzy with a slight shortness of breath, Jen realizes that her heartbeat is racing. She instantly blames the wine which surely, at the least, has enhanced the effect. Whatever the reason, the sudden receipt of such exuberant flattery – the unexpected confirmation of her sexual appeal - is quite satisfying, and she confidently resists the urge to cover up. Suddenly reduced to pushing her salad around the plate with her fork, Jen is unable to continue eating. Consumed with the knowledge that she is being watched, she becomes overly self-conscious and highly aware of her own movements. But her tingling insecurity slowly gives way to giddy thoughts of playful cockiness, and Jen begins to feel somewhat empowered by the situation. Although completely out of character, she decides to have a little harmless fun and play up to the interest of the boys. Jen deliberately moistens her lips while keeping her gaze held straight ahead. She leans forward, draws another sip of the wine and slowly smiles – quietly signaling to her audience that she is fully aware of their view. Moving on her barstool she slowly raises her leg nearest the men and crosses it over the other. The movement exposes Jen's right leg enough to reveal the taut straps of her garter. She lightly runs her hand along the outer length of her soft thigh, starting at the knee, gently running her fingers along the shimmering nylon fabric. Reaching the top of the stocking, her thumb pulls into the exposed hem, and her fingers tug at the fasteners of the garter snaps at the front, and then around to the back of the exposed leg. With her legs now tightly crossed Jen can feel the warmth of her excitement building as she nonchalantly primps and tugs at the position of the stocking. Freshly waxed from the day before, Jen can actually sense the increased blood flow gently swelling in her baby-smooth folds. Mimicking the subtle adjustments made when first dressing earlier in the evening, her hand continues the stocking dance for a full minute, finally smoothing the skirt across her lap before reaching up to push her plate away. Startled by her own unbridled courage, Jen picks up the wine glass and sits motionless as her thoughts return to John, and for the next several minutes she begins to wrestle with a pang of guilt. Her little show was meant for her husband. Yet, the eroticism of performing in view of these total strangers is undeniably more pronounced, more alluring than the gentle twinges she feels when giving John similar "accidental" flashes. Jen quietly wonders what John would say if he were watching this scene? Would he be wildly turned on by my public display, possibly encouraging my provocation? Or would he insist on leaving immediately, embarrassed and angry? It doesn't really matter, now does it? He's not here. Maybe that's the key. Is it more dangerous, more enticing because I am so entirely removed from the safety of John's consent? Is the thought of allowing other men to see me as one of "those girls" for just a little while, the most thrilling of all? Do we all secretly fantasize about stepping out of our "good girl" comfort zone for a night - to become the flirtatious and willing trollop? Am I tempting a gang bang? The very thought of losing control of the situation is wildly exciting to Jen, and at the same time, full of unmistakable danger. Jennifer's Secret The dumb luck of finding this goddess through a bullshit Craigslist advertisement – the very next day, no less - was just too good to be true, even for Brad. He was actually starting to feel a little cocky after running into her again. Maybe that was the reason he decided to pursue things a little further after finding her standing on her deck that sunny Saturday morning. She just looked so natural, so pretty and so undeniably sexy standing there in a tee-shirt. It was clear they had caught her unprepared for visitors. But it couldn't have been more perfect in Brad's mind. She had exactly the look that he would have pictured after spending the night making love to her. That momentary flash of her panty-covered ass running for cover just sealed the deal. It burned in his mind like a Polaroid print. He needed to talk to her, to touch her, to find out just how far she would be willing to go. After leaving a note on her door he patiently waited for several days for a callback that never came. Now it was time to move in. Brad e-mailed Benjamin one last time to see if he could stop by the house sometime in the next week to check out the amplifier again. Brad pushed a little harder this time claiming that he had to close the deal this week or he would move on. Ben didn't actually see the message until he returned to school on Monday afternoon (Halloween). Excited about selling his amp, he immediately called home and asked his mother if she could be home on Wednesday to handle the sale. Jen reluctantly agreed, and Ben coordinated the visit for five o'clock. Although he had no way of knowing just yet, everything was falling into place for Brad. His unending string of good fortune was intact. Chapter Five Jen said her goodbyes to John on Tuesday morning as he left for the airport. The flight would get him into Dallas sometime around one o'clock, Jen's time. More importantly for Jen, he wouldn't be home until late Thursday night. The nervous anxieties were already churning. On one hand Jen felt obligated to help her son make the sale and turn a few bucks. But having this young man alone in her house was certainly inviting trouble. More than once during the day Jen came very close to calling to reschedule Brad's visit for the following week so that John could be there. But each time the thought surfaced, Jen found that she just didn't have the conviction to change the plan. The intrigue, the danger, the palpable erotic energy of the situation was just too much to deny. She had no intention of actually cheating on her husband - that much was clear in her mind. But the opportunity for another playful episode, alone this time, was just too inviting. In fact, the situation was wildly exciting, and Jen felt powerless to prevent it from playing out. Tuesday night, Jen is alone in the house and the sexual tension is steadily mounting. She tries to occupy herself with tidying up around the house, but then realizes she is merely preparing for the young man's visit on Wednesday. Since leaving work earlier in the day her excitement level has been practically all consuming. She tries to relax and read a book, but her focus is so poor she cannot get through a single page. Watching television is no better. Finally, Jen decides to take matters into her own hands. Jen tunes the family room stereo to a soft jazz station and starts a fire in the fireplace. She lowers the lighting, draws a bath and then soaks in the oversized tub for more than an hour. Afterwards, dressed in a semi-shear lace-trimmed lavender babydoll and a tiny matching g-string thong, she saunters through the house until stopping at the fireplace to re-position a few objects on the mantel. A large chair has been situated directly in front of the fireplace, facing the hearth. In her hand Jen holds a pocket vibrator and a rather sizeable, but lifelike, dildo. She lays both toys on the armrest of the chair and then settles in. The cushions have been considerably warmed by the nearby fire. The soft music sets the rhythm as Jen begins lightly touching the exposed skin of her legs. Her fingers trace over the soft tan of her thighs as they slowly begin to part. She grabs the front of her legs just above the knees before dragging her grip upwards along the tops of her shapely thighs, fingernails scratching skin as she exhales deeply. She reaches up and across her body to softly cup a breast. Through the sheer material of her lingerie Jen supports the weight of her sensitive flesh. She extends a finger to find the nipple, circling the areola several times before gently pinching the protruding nub. Down below, her fingers spread into a wide 'V' and begin to pull upwards along the outline of her panty. She then drives the hand forward, grinding her palm down across the tiny patch of lavender, momentarily exposing her dark, neatly trimmed landing strip. Again, she slowly drags her fingers upwards along both sides of her mound, digging heavily into the smooth skin just beyond her pouting labia. The heavy hand pulls at the g-string as it begins to work its way into her moist flesh. She continues this motion for several minutes, grinding her pelvis against the motions of her hand as it heavily massages into the tiny triangle of her panties – its string now pulled tightly into the crease of her bottom. Jen turns her head to the side and moans softly as she extends a finger under the thin material to lightly touch the moistened lips of her entrance. She is pleased, but not surprised to find considerable wetness. She draws up a leg to position it over the arm of the chair, and then works the entire hand under the panty. She slides the finger between her petals, feeling the slippery warmth against the coolness of her probing touch. Pushing her shoulder forward to extend her reach, Jen works the finger in as far as she can go. She pauses momentarily, and then slowly wiggles the buried finger in a 'come here' motion. Remaining under the tight stretch of her g-string her hand pumps several times, working the finger in and out while positioning her thumb against her clit. With her eyes closed tightly, Jen mumbles in a sultry voice "so wet for you" as her hand continues its magic. Slowly the tight grip on her breast relaxes as she begins to withdraw the hand below. Her glistening finger slowly slips from the pouting folds. Once completely free, Jen carefully tugs the crotch of the lavender bottom to the side, bunching the soft fabric and bringing her manicured treasure into view. Jen reaches for the dildo and holds its bowed length silhouetted against the flickering light of the fireplace before bringing it to her face. With her eyes focused atop the fireplace she extends her tongue and begins licking all along the length of the rubbery shaft. Jen takes the head of the dildo into her mouth several times, pushing it deeper with each plunge before finally releasing it with a heavy gasp. Moving the moistened cock towards her mound, she playfully slaps the wriggling dildo against her sex several times, feeling its solid weight as it smacks against her engorged petals. Jen widens her legs and arches her torso as she finally aims the tip towards its target. She first carefully slides the smooth mushroomed head up and down across her glistening entrance, gathering more of her moisture before pushing forward. The toy resists entry at first, and Jen momentarily wrestles with the dildo as it begins to bend. Opening her legs a bit further while holding her breath, the oversized head finally pushes in. She gently nudges forward and then pulls back, very slowly, using her lubrication to eventually work the hefty eight inch shaft deeper. It's a tight fit, but the intense feeling of fullness it creates is exactly what Jen desires. Her legs are now completely splayed open. All but the last inch or so of the firm cock is hidden inside of her as Jen continues to hold it firmly in place with a finger. She pauses for a moment as her free fingers lightly circle the buried shaft, probing the warm and wet skin forming a tightly stretched "o" around the thick penis. With a flick of a switch the tiny vibrator buzzes loudly in Jen's hand. Still holding the flesh-colored dildo in place, Jen lowers the small flashlight-shaped toy and lightly touches the vibrating nub to the hood of her clit, causing her body to jerk as if receiving an electric shock. Her swollen pink button is noticeably protruding, as if begging to be noticed. She slides the tip of the vibrator down along the length of her labia, circling the tight skin around the buried shaft, and then retraces back to her most sensitive spot. She gently maneuvers the powerful toy around her rosebud, careful not to be too direct with its contact. Quickly finding her "spot" she begins slowly alternating the force, grinding down heavy and then pulling back to a tickle. The audible whine of the vibrator revs up and drags down with the changing pressure. Jens breathing begins to increase as she pushes harder against the dildo, burying its remaining length and stretching her completely. Jen already knew that in her recent state of excitement it wouldn't take long, but after having barely started the contact with her sensitive clit, she begins to moan loudly as the first roll of her orgasm begins to build. Her torso clenches tightly, she pants, and bucks her hips violently, raising her pelvis upwards as the climax crashes into her loins. She fights to maintain the buzzing against her clit as another heavy wave rolls through her legs and into her torso. Jen moans loudly and lurches sideways in the chair while lifting a leg skyward. She reaches around from behind and begins banging against the dildo in a sort of slapping motion, causing it to jerk deep inside of her as the spasms continue. Her body convulses and shudders as she continues to roll in a series of diminishing crescendos. Deep, unmistakable grunts of sexual pleasure mix with the background music as she rides out the waves of her orgasm for almost a full minute. Slowly, Jen's legs drop back to the floor as she settles down into the chair and exhales deeply. She turns off the tiny vibrator, and then slowly pulls the slippery dildo from her body. She drops the glistening cock and the vibrator to the floor between her legs. Jen remains motionless and watches her shimmering body in the flickering glow of the firelight as the tremors slowly subside. She raises her head and smiles in satisfaction. Chapter Six Brad Jennings stands at the front of the Holsten house and rings the bell. It is quarter past five in the afternoon and the skies are beginning to grow dark. Somehow Jen resisted the wild suggestion of leaving the front door ajar and waiting for Brad on the family room couch, naked. This powerful urge of presenting herself in total submission for his taking had lingered heavily in her mind for the past couple of days. But today Jen dismisses the idea as nothing more than foolish fantasy, and consciously reminds herself that she won't take things too far. This is, after all, merely a harmless game of cat and mouse, and she is intent on keeping her fantasies as fantasy, and keeping her reality under control. A quick phone call to John at lunchtime helped to further ground her wicked thoughts. John sounded genuinely anxious to get back home, and Jen promised him a fun surprise when he returned. Their conversation was brief, but Jen was convinced it would help to keep things in check with Brad. And yet, as the afternoon wore on and Jen thought more about the phone call, she couldn't deny that her real intention was to verify that John was still in Dallas. He was. Jen spent more that a little time deciding what to wear for Brad's visit. In fact, she had changed clothes several times that afternoon. The first selection was a repeat of the encounter on the deck – a simple tee-shirt and panties. Then after changing her mind for fear that she would be presenting too much of an invitation, she switched into white shorts and a hot pink blouse. But an hour later Jen decided she looked too much like a soccer mom, and once again she dug back into her wardrobe. She finally settled on faded cutoff denim shorts and a simple tan sweatshirt. Instead of panties and bra, she wore a sexy white camisole leotard under her clothes. She finished the look with her favorite white running shoes before pulling her hair into a ponytail. Jen looked fit, young, and sexy. Again, the doorbell chimes just as Jen opens the door. "Oh, sorry... hey there, Mrs. Holsten" Brad says with a broad smile. His eyes immediately survey Jen from top to bottom as she stands in the doorway. "It's Jen, Bradley. Come in." Jen swings the door open wide and stands out of the way. "Since we're being informal, it's just Brad." Brad enters the house and walks past Jen and into the foyer. Jen immediately catches a touch of his scent, a slight hint of a body spray mixed with a trace of autumn leaves. Clearly Brad has been outdoors for most of the day. Jen quickly looks him over as he walks through the foyer and into the family room. He is dressed in well-worn blue jeans, a gray tee-shirt and basketball shoes. He is slightly taller than she remembers from the morning on the deck. Jen closes the door and turns to find Brad standing in the family room watching her. "Help me get this straight. I've seen the ring, but never the husband." Brad blurts out with a perplexing look. "My husband is in Dallas until tomorrow night. He's been a little consumed with work, lately." Recognizing that she has already given far too much information, Jen decides to get back to business. "Umm, the amplifier is in Benjamin's room. Do you need me to go and get it?" "Uh... yeah, sure." Jen disappears from the foyer and heads towards Benjamin's room. She quickly returns with the bulky amplifier and sets it on the floor of the family room. Brad stands motionless and smiles. "Did you want to check it out, or something?" Jen asks. Brad's smile broadens, but he doesn't say a word. Jen instantly feels a blush coming on, but quickly tries to recover. "I think Ben said he would take one seventy five for it." Brad reaches for his wallet and quickly pulls out four fifties. He walks towards Jennifer and holds out the money. Jen locks onto Brad's brown eyes as she reaches for the bills, and he doesn't flinch. She can see the cockiness in his smile, the subtle swagger in his movements, the forward stance that is brash, but also confident and appealing. He isn't just here for the amplifier, Jen is reminded. Jen breaks the awkward pause as she takes the money. "Let me get you some change" and she quickly turns to head to her bedroom. "No need to change, you look hot" Brad quips. Jen continues on to the bedroom without a reply, all the while hiding her smile. She feels giddy, almost like a teenager who is having a boyfriend over while the parents are gone. There is excitement, as well as danger in the air. But she doesn't want the visit to end too soon. Jen returns and hands Brad a twenty, explaining that she doesn't have a smaller bill in the house. "But let me get you a five dollar beer before you go. Have a seat." She points Brad into the family room before heading to the kitchen. Jen opens a couple of beers from the fridge and returns to find Brad sitting in the chair next to the fireplace – which is now pushed back into its normal location. She hands him a beer and moves to sit on the nearby sofa. Jen cannot help but think how attractive he is sitting in her room, so relaxed, so full of confidence, so unafraid. There is already a growing doubt in her mind about her willingness to say no to him. Brad chugs down a third of his beer very quickly. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he continues the conversation. "Guess it was a big surprise to bump into me again after your performance at The Country." He offers the comment with a coy smile that she finds irresistible. "Uuugh", Jen answers as she raises her eyebrows and quickly rolls her eyes before taking a sip from her beer, "more than just a surprise". "You know we talked about you for hours that night. You had quite an effect on us... especially me." "You caught me in a rare moment, for sure." "I sure hope not" Brad replies. "A woman with your looks should feel natural showing off a little, every now and then." Jen quietly laughs through her nose and shakes her head at the compliment. "Yeah... natural, like you found me out on my deck when you and Ben barged in here." Brad's wide grin returns. "Lucky for me, I guess." Jen just smiles and takes another sip of her beer. "Hey, you got any munchies?" Brad asks. Jen squints for a few seconds in obvious thought, and then answers "I guess I can make us some popcorn. Hang on... be right back." Jen sets her beer on the table and springs from the sofa. Brad boldly eyes her up and down as she crosses the room and disappears into the kitchen. As she heads out of the room he is reminded of the last time he saw that sweet ass bounding from the patio weeks ago, and he nervously wonders how he can lengthen his visit now that the sale has been completed. Several minutes later Jen reappears from the kitchen carrying a large bowl of hot popcorn. But after only a few steps into the family room she stops in a panic. She sees Brad standing at the fireplace watching intently into the small four inch screen of a video camera which he had found sitting on the mantle. To Jen's horror, the tinny sounds of jazz and gentle moaning confirm that he is watching the personal scene she had recorded for John the night before. "What are you doing?!" Jen screams. She slams the popcorn bowl down on the coffee table and rushes toward the fireplace. Popcorn flies everywhere as Jen grabs the camera and snaps closed the little pop-out video screen. She fumbles with the controls, trying to find the power button as the audio continues for several more painful seconds. Jen finally turns it off and then backs away without making eye contact. She mumbles under her breath "oh my God" before backing into the sofa and falling into a seated position. Tightly holding the camera with both hands against her stomach, she curls forward and hangs her head in silence over her knees. Brad stands motionless for a long moment, and then finally speaks. "Jen?" "I think you need to leave, Brad." Again, Brad pauses, leaving another awkward silence in the room before continuing. "Do you really want me to leave?" Jen continues to stare at the floor. "I don't know" she answers quietly. Brad doesn't move, and another long silent gap ensues before he continues, "Jen... did you leave that tape for me to see?" Nervously biting her upper lip, she raises her shoulders in a shrug and whispers "I don't know." Brad slowly moves to the sofa and stands beside Jen. He reaches out and lightly touches her shoulder. She does not look up, but neither does she resist his touch. Jen warms to Brad's gentle contact, but is still too embarrassed to look at him. She does not raise her head as he slowly moves away, and Jen assumes he is about to leave. In the silence Jen questions her own intentions with the tape. She had honestly planned to share the tape with John once he returned home. But there was no denying that she had Brad in mind when making the video. It was his eyes she imagined being upon her as she masturbated for the camera. She came for him. Jen had even toyed with scenarios in which she could somehow show Brad the video, but not like this. Jen's thoughts are interrupted by Brad's voice from across the room. "Jen." She finally lifts her head. Brad is standing with hands on hips beside the chair he had occupied earlier. His shirt lies across the arm of the chair and his jeans are unfastened and opened enough to reveal pubic hair.